


I Need You (Everywhere)

by killingg_eve



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Daddy V, F/F, Smut, Today's Episode of: Absolute Filth, Top V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingg_eve/pseuds/killingg_eve
Summary: Eve gets worked up while having lunch with Villanelle at a fancy restaurant. A smutty one-shot with some softness towards the end.--I would like to blame this one on Thanksgiving, where the group chat said "Daddy" FAR too often for me to be in my family's home, surrounded by Jesus pictures. (Something was in the air, that day, because a bunch of guests read my other daddy kink piece...)
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 15
Kudos: 139





	I Need You (Everywhere)

**Author's Note:**

> This thing didn't want to end. It threatened to keep going and going. Please let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading! x

The dinner was normal, until it wasn’t.

Eve sat comfortably in a small, black dress. Her lip color was dark and she was scattered with silver jewelry.

Villanelle wore a standard, black suit. Her shirt was white; classic. A gentlewoman.

And Eve held herself together, until she couldn’t.

She wasn’t sure which part started it all—something Villanelle said about their upcoming anniversary, maybe. Something about the word “my,” surely. “My Angel” or “My Sweetheart” or “My Baby Girl,” probably. The syllables rolled off of Villanelle’s tongue in a low, husky Russian accent. And suddenly, Eve was clamping her legs together and praying for the second course and the third course of their expensive lunch to be set down on the table, that way she could clear her plates and move onto the next. Onto the next and next and next, so she could get release sooner.

Eve interrupted whatever Villanelle was saying about all of those years ago—what with Carolyn and Konstantin and The Twelve. She interrupted with a low, soft-spoken, “ _Daddy_.”

Villanelle raised her eyebrows. The rest of her expression went null, blank, empty. There was a glimmer in her eye, though.

“Yes?” Villanelle breathed.

“Please, can we leave?” Eve asked, and then she clamped her eyes shut and felt guilty for even raising the question. It wasn’t often that Villanelle spent hundreds on a singular meal—not anymore, anyway, since her career as an assassin ended. But the need between her legs, which started as a spark and a candlelight, grew into something impossibly larger. It was overcome with urgency.

“Are you okay?” Villanelle asked, because Eve was practically recoiling with an arm across her stomach. Her eyes were closed, still. Villanelle put her hand out for Eve.

And Eve took the hand that was offered, but even that much contact made her worried that she was going to moan or groan or something else wildly inappropriate for the environment.

“I’m really, um . . .” Eve started, feeling appalled at how quickly the need grew from nothing. “I need you _right now_ ,” Eve whispered. And she couldn’t stress the end of the statement enough.

Villanelle went to sweep a curl behind Eve’s ear, but Eve flinched as Villanelle performed the action—totally on accident—because a finger brushed against her neck, and everything felt so sensitive. ( _Everything_.)

“There are only two dishes left,” Villanelle whispered back, because god, she wanted to give this meal to Eve.

Eve nodded and said thank you, and she continued to eat the rice pilaf in front of her, but even sitting down began to feel like too much (too much of not enough).

“Maybe j-just . . . your fingers?” Eve asked after a while, sheepishly. She could hardly recall any time in her life where she needed to be touched so badly.

The waiter came around to refill Villanelle’s water glass, and both of them hoped he hadn’t heard Eve’s request.

“In this expensive restaurant?” Villanelle asked somewhat scolding, once the waiter left. “ _No_ ,” she told Eve, taking note of how Eve’s back was turned on a family of five, who sat merely a few feet away.

Eve thought she was going to start to shake, or maybe explode, or that some sort of something would happen to her if she didn’t get her release.

“C-Can—” Eve started, and she made the mistake of shifting her weight in her seat, and she shuddered. “Can I touch my clit?” she asked so, so quietly, and she looked down at just her index finger.

“ _No_ ,” Villanelle scolded, again, since Eve was asking.

Eve looked like she wanted to cry. Her mouth was parted as though she was going to accuse Villanelle of the worst: of not taking care of her, even when when she was desperate; of prioritizing food over her throbbing need; of prioritizing others’ judgments over her desire.

“You think I’m depriving you?” Villanelle asked, somehow knowing all.

Eve looked away from Villanelle, down to her plate. And she stared and stared, wishing away the forest fire of desperation and the wetness in her underwear.

A hand appeared in Eve’s peripheral, and she took it, again, knowing the cost.

And Villanelle had offered it, knowing that Eve was sensitive everywhere, even her hands.

“You think I don’t consider what you want?” Villanelle asked, and she dragged Eve’s hand to her lap, setting it down on her own crotch.

Eve gasped, then, feeling the hard silicone surely just under the single layer of fabric.

Eve squeezed to be sure before asking (or accusing), “Th-That the big one?”

Villanelle nodded slowly.

Eve thought she was going to fall apart. She pulled her hand away, unable to consider the length or the circumference or any veiny details on the toy, for a moment longer. She was so sensitive that she could vividly imagine it filling her, hitting her.

Villanelle knew that Eve’s awareness of the toy meant that lunch truly was over, so she set down a wad of cash and guided Eve out the door. The hand on Eve’s waist, like everything else, was overwhelming.

The pair walked to Villanelle’s sportscar, parked on the street. And Eve eyed the size of the backseat, considering how no one had ever even sat in the back, before.

“Please,” Eve told her, looking at the tinted window and then back to Villanelle. “In the car?” Eve asked, simply.

Villanelle didn’t know what had come over Eve. Eve was always eager for sex, but not to the point of impatience. She pulled Eve against herself, into a hug. She hoped to deliver a promise of driving fast. It pained her to know that Eve needed this so desperately, and she felt bad that she didn’t take care of Eve in the restaurant.

A shudder rolled through Eve, immediately, when her body was pressed to Villanelle’s. It hit her _everywhere_. She mewed against Villanelle’s chest on pure accident. She lifted her head.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Eve begged. She spoke it against the shell of Villanelle’s ear.

Villanelle broke, at that, understanding that this time, Eve’s need was a true _need_ that wouldn’t fade and couldn’t wait on traffic or pedestrians or anything else.

“Get in the back,” Villanelle commanded. Finally.

**

Eve pounced on Villanelle, pushing Villanelle down onto the leather seats and hardly even remembering to close the door behind them.

Villanelle reached for the button of her trousers, but when she wasn’t moving quickly enough, Eve pushed her long fingers out of the way and undid the button herself. At the very least, Eve had the courtesy of pulling Villanelle’s white shirt up so she could press (dark purple) kisses to Villanelle’s abdomen. An apology.

Villanelle knew she should have taken control, surely, especially as “Daddy.” But Eve’s pulling and near-tearing of her zipper felt like a process she shouldn’t intrude on. If Eve needed to be this way, she could allow it. She didn’t even need to know why.

Eve tugged the toy free so quickly and aggressively, not minding how it became stuck and bent in a well-fitted pair of trousers. She forced it free, regardless.

Something about how Villanelle was thrown onto her back (with only the toy being forcefully exposed) reminded Villanelle of the feeling of eager hands pushing legs apart. Something about Eve staking her claim—ripping the toy free and coating it in saliva, unprompted, made Villanelle feel like every part of her had been stripped bare. And that was the exact opposite of the truth, wasn’t it?

Eve scooted her way up Villanelle’s waist in the small area of the sportscar and lifted her dress, exposing her complete disregard for underwear of any variety.

As Eve prepared to seat herself on the toy, Villanelle distracted Eve by running three fingers over her clit.

Normally, Eve would probably let out a breath, maybe utter a quiet “ _Oh_ ,” maybe wiggle her hips in search of more friction and expose her neck, subconsciously, by running her fingers through her hair. Today was different—infinitely different—and instead, she fell completely forward with shudders and gasps and a yelp.

Villanelle caught her and ran a soothing hand down her side. Truthfully, she was shaken by Eve’s strong reaction.

“Are . . . you going to ask?” Villanelle whispered.

Villanelle was worried. Worried that Eve was using her for release, at this point, almost as though she was engaging in a solo activity where Villanelle was solely an observer.

“I’m s—I’m _sorry_ ,” Eve breathed. She cupped Villanelle’s cheek and kissed her, quickly. “Please, please, _please_ fuck me. I need you so bad.” And Eve whined and lost eye contact, at some point, closing her eyes.

Villanelle guided the tip into Eve, at that point. She trusted Eve with everything. She was generous; selfless.

Villanelle pushed it in halfway, or so, and suddenly Eve was chanting, “ _Deeper, deeper, deeper!_ ” But Eve’s body said otherwise—or so Villanelle worried.

Eve looked as though she was going to cry when she didn’t get what she wanted.

“ _Eve_ ,” Villanelle scolded. It sounded impatient, but it was something else, entirely.

Eve looked into her eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Villanelle explained, and she sounded pained, herself.

Eve usually took the big toy slowly, having to work her way up to it. Today, she seemed to forget that.

Eve nodded in response to Villanelle’s concern, searching for the words “thank you,” but hoping she could tie those words together, later, because a million other words pushed themselves to the forefront of her mind. She started to let all of them pass through her.

“I know that you need me,” Eve said with clarity, and she started pulling open the buttons on Villanelle’s white shirt. Eve was wound so tight that she needed a distraction. “. . . For many reasons,” Eve continued, when she was halfway down.

Villanelle only stared at her. She was shocked and felt blank and void, but she listened. She hardly blinked.

“Because…” (and Eve separated the sides of the shirt, finding no bra underneath) “…of Mama—she was _awful_ to you. And Anna—she didn’t _love_ you. She only loved the idea of possessing you.”

Villanelle felt like there was no air left in her lungs as Eve spoke some of the darkest truths of her life ruthlessly. Loudly. Unapologetically. And her chest was stripped bare on a public street with passerby’s and busy shops and restaurants.

Eve started to play with a nipple and knead both of Villanelle’s breasts. She mindlessly touched Villanelle, there, while she continued to utter horrendous truths.

“Nobody showed you love, and nobody treated you right. And nobody treated you like a person—not even in your career. Not in that filthy prison. Not in The Hole. You were treated as an object. A psychopath.” Eve was sucking, now. Licking, pawing, flicking. “Hell, I treated you like a psychopath, too. I ran from you, the first time we were alone, together. Once, I told you that you didn’t know what love was.”

“Jesus— _fuck_ ,” Villanelle exclaimed, because teeth grazed her nipple and Eve was touching her, and Eve was telling her things. She felt more naked than she actually was.

“ _I need you, too,_ ” Eve breathed. Finally, the bottom line started to show through. “I don’t think I tell you that, enough.” Her eyes glistened with regret.

Then, Eve was panting. Eve was taking the rest of the toy. Eve was touching Villanelle’s breasts and watching Villanelle’s face turn from shocked to aroused—and around and around, again, like a merry-go-round.

As Eve began to ride the toy, she moaned and she spoke other, coherent truths. “I need you _so bad_ , Ville. I’ve never known what it’s like to care about someone, like this. I’ve never been afraid of someone getting hurt. I’ve never had nightmares about someone disappearing. I’ve never needed to feel someone’s skin, someone’s body heat, like this. I _need_ to hear your breaths and your whining—and speaking and crying—and every other sound that will ever leave your throat, for the rest of your life.”

Villanelle mewled on accident, the gravelly sound pushing out of her without her consent. She couldn’t believe that Eve undressed her and took her inside, let alone that she was making a declaration of love, now.

“I have never truly _needed_ someone to fuck me, before.” It was almost incoherent when Eve changed her angle on the toy and whimpered, “ _To fill me_.”

And Villanelle could’ve sworn that _she_ was the one being fucked when Eve said:

“I need you so fucking bad. I need you _everywhere_. I need you— _ah!_ —all the way ins-side.” And the toy poked and prodded inside of Eve in a way that was irresistible. “I . . . I’ve never _needed_ someone, before. And today I finally put it all into words when you said I-I-I-I—” Eve struggled. She struggled because she was filled and the spot all the way inside her was being delightfully tugged upon, but she needed more of Villanelle, still. “— _Christ_ —you said I was _yours_.”

And Eve hitched her breath, suddenly, and she whined, “ _Daddy_ ,” so messily that it hardly sounded like a singular word, let alone a name. Eve held an unpoised, desperate rhythm against the toy while she gave herself to Villanelle. “I am _your_ baby! I am _your_ pretty girl!”

Villanelle groaned in response. Eve was saying she _possessed_ Villanelle, and also that she was _giving_ herself to Villanelle, at the same time. It made no sense, yet it made perfect sense. And she understood Eve’s plea to feel her “everywhere.”

So, Villanelle pushed her hand from Eve’s hip all the way down the back of her, feeling at a spot that only she was familiar with. “You want me _everywhere_ , Princess?” Villanelle whispered in one, hot breath as her fingertip rested over Eve’s asshole.

Eve swore Villanelle could finally understand what she needed, and how much, and how urgently. She nodded with a whiny “ _Mmm!_ ” as Villanelle followed through, poking and prodding and then sinking a finger inside.

“ _You’re_ _mine_ ,” Villanelle proclaimed, darkly, and then, “ _Oh god,_ do you remember when . . .” Villanelle trailed off, a vivid memory dancing across her sparkling eyes.

And of course Eve remembered. Villanelle fucked her in the ass, once, slick and calculated and deep.

“ _Yes!_ ” Eve responded, and then, “I need you everywhere!” Eve emphasized, one last time. She specified, “In my mouth, in my ass, on—” she whined, “on my clit, and in my cunt!” And she kept bobbing up and down, and she pulled her dress up a little further. Villanelle’s finger worked inside of her perfectly. The tip of the cock pulled against her insides, exactly where she needed it. She was finally assured that the incessant desire would fade, upon her release.

Villanelle groaned and put three of her other hand’s fingertips against Eve’s clit, and when she realized she was out of hands to offer, she met Eve’s mouth for quick, messy kisses and then forced her tongue into Eve’s mouth.

With that, Eve was filled in every way she’d requested. Tears filled her eyes. And it only took a few more strokes ( _of_ _everything_ ) for Eve to come on the cock and all of the intricately placed fingers, and her moans were stifled by the tongue that continued to fill her mouth until she was finished coming.

Eve was a shivering mess, afterward, and she collapsed against Villanelle’s chest.

Villanelle managed to remove all of her fingers from Eve. She kept the toy buried inside. She held Eve against herself.

Villanelle felt as if she must’ve been close to coming, too, after Eve stripped her, spoke those words to her, and took everything.

“Oh my god,” Eve finally murmured. Her head was laid between Villanelle’s breasts.

Villanelle soothed Eve, running her hands up and down Eve’s back. “Better?” she asked.

“You’re so perfect,” Eve shivered. She felt at-home on top of Villanelle’s body. She needed to be enveloped, like this.

“And you’re . . .” Villanelle paused, tightening her grip, “You’re so fucking hot when you get like that.”

Eve received the compliment and lifted herself off the toy, then pulled Villanelle’s pants down without warning. She took the toy in her mouth, cleaning it, and she plunged two fingers into Villanelle.

Villanelle felt as though she’d already been fucked, so she cried out in raw pleasure. She knew that Eve was aware of how the sucking motion would force the base of the toy against her clit.

Villanelle wondered if she wasn’t a very tough “Daddy” because she quickly started to come. And she shrieked Eve’s name and let out a continuous whine that resembled more of a silent scream. And as Eve cleaned off her own fingers, Villanelle laid there and panted for air, and she wondered how Eve was the one who got fucked in every hole and still (somehow) was wearing more clothes, in the end.

**

“Let’s go home,” Eve suggested, after a moment. And when no reply came from Villanelle—when she was still panting and assessing the state she was in—Eve asked, “Everything okay?” Her bliss dropped to a state of concern.

Villanelle closed her shirt and started to do the top button. “Eve, I . . .” she stopped herself, letting the shirt fall back open with a sigh. She figured she should leave herself exactly as Eve left her—till she said what she needed to, at least.

“I love you and I need you,” Villanelle said, still bare, with purple kisses scattered across the whole of her. “You were right. I need you because I didn’t experience love before you. Everyone used me and manipulated me. Nobody actually cared.”

Eve understood what Villanelle was doing: not dressing herself, yet, but opting to lay vulnerably while she spoke. Eve wanted to smooth her hands over Villanelle, somewhere, but decided it would be best to wait and listen. So, she just nodded.

“I think I discovered something new. Because of you—because of what you did,” Villanelle said. Her cheeks felt hot, suddenly. “And because of what you said!” Villanelle rushed out.

“What is it, baby?” Eve breathed. Her eyes danced with curiosity.

“I think that I need to be _needed_ ,” Villanelle explained. She let a tear fall. “You said that you need me. You _showed_ me how badly you needed me. And you told me where—‘everywhere,’” she recalled. “And I think that maybe I need to be needed. And you fulfilled that need, Eve.”

Eve couldn’t hold herself back, anymore, so she scooted herself closer to Villanelle and put her hand on Villanelle’s abdomen, and she was delighted when Villanelle held her hand, there.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner that I need you,” Eve started. She felt so guilty. “I have always needed you. And I feel bad, now, because I have always known that you need _me_.” She squeezed Villanelle’s hand. “ _Always_ ,” she clarified, “since day one. And I got off on it. It’s always felt amazing and powerful. And it makes me feel special and . . . lucky.”

Villanelle was dizzied with love and lust, always back and forth between the two.

“I have always needed you, too, since I met you,” Eve continued. “Even if I was stubborn and made you chase me.” She smiled, briefly. “I’m sorry if you ever felt like you needed me, but worried that I didn’t need you back. It’s mutual. It’s—” she breathed and her eyes flickered closed and then back open, “—it’s a _burning_ need.”

Villanelle sat up, quickly, and backed Eve into the corner between the door and the seat.

And all of Eve’s skin felt hot, again, when Villanelle took back the reigns.

“Thank you for telling me, now,” Villanelle said lowly, and then she kissed Eve. “Don’t be sorry and don’t feel bad.”

Eve sunk down lower into the seat because she wanted Villanelle above her. All around her.

Villanelle seemed to understand perfectly because she put her arms against the car seats on either side of Eve’s head, effectively pinning her. And then she described what she wanted.

“I hope you will always tell me when you feel like you need me,” Villanelle told Eve. “It makes me _crazy_ for you.” And her lips were pressed to Eve’s neck before either of them was prepared for the sensation.

Eve’s hips bucked beneath Villanelle. And she took one of Villanelle’s hands and drew it down, down, down. And they didn’t make it back home, for a long while.


End file.
